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I went back, I had to, back down south to the other motherland. The thrill of hopping the big fence and becoming my other half; and it's odd how everything seems the same but when you're over it you are quiet in a new land. Being on the road and flowing through the veins of an old air in a time that's not so far behind us. This was our first road trip together and we hit the big city of brotherly love. We found some other brothers and threw back some old times.
The stadium was infested with glee and red jerseys and breasts as the eye could see. And me? Well, lets just say I was impressed by the infectious energy. After some winks and grins and chuckles we took to our proper places. I can feel it now, growing as I approached, that old air coming through to me and it began to sink in as we reached the upper level. People buzzed by laughing like a thick traffic of kids, not realizing their supreme temporary stature, and in their grandeur I smiled on my own.
I turned and cut through the fray and suddenly was hit by it all: the old days. Everything slowed down at once and I was atop of the old world looking down and into the old days. I could feel it all around. The smells, the sights, the sounds had all changed instantly and I was frozen. And that's what I love about baseball, it stays the same. The grass is mowed and the quelling expectations in the air keep it contained. At any moment 'the pounce' is on and what seemed settled leaps right outta the pot. I couldn't keep my eyes from the moment down there. I felt six years old again just standing there drunken-snug-as-a-bug.
After the game I had a cheesesteak then we were off to the night. Three different bars. Another cheesesteak. Cheers! Cheers! Cheers! Hand stamps and car bombs, your typical racing events. Then, down the line to the next boxcar for more. We roared.
The van shuttled us all to the hotel where we vanished into linens amongst the untouched binge-bomb-beverages we were to consume upon our return. But we slept like lambs.
When we awoke we joked and exchanged hands for another time. We sat around waiting for the next play. When two of us left we stopped for my third cheesesteak; and the best one yet. As we thinned out of the city limits The Boss came on the radio and walked us to the door with his take on the place. We weren't 'bruised and battered', but we couldn't tell what we felt.
And when the big bell tolls we'll be back.
